All of Me
by love.u.always.mom
Summary: Steve is having a hard time dealing with Bucky's death and his own subsequent survivor's guilt when he remembers that he's not the only one in the tower who's tried to kill himself. A chat with Bruce goes a long way toward easing his mind (and his heart).


**Two in a row with no explicit sex, would you look at that? I swear I'm going to give my friends a heart attack.**

 **Trigger Warning for: Implied/Referenced Violence, Suicide**

 **Find me on Tumblr at: love-u-always-mom**

 **If you recognize it, it's not mine!**

 **Pretty please leave me a comment at the end, I love them!**

 **And since I don't need to warn anyone about explicit sexual content, I think that's everything...**

* * *

" _Bucky! Hang on! Grab my hand!" There was an ominous crack from the bar, and Bucky dropped a couple of inches. "No!" He made a desperate grab, as far as he could go without losing his grip, but it was too little and far, far too late. Bucky's scream of terror echoed in his ears as his body grew smaller and smaller..._

Steve punched harder, sweat pouring down his face as splits began to appear in the fabric of the bag. Tears might have been mingling with it, at this point he couldn't be sure. The pain in his heart was blotting everything else out as the music resonated through the gym.

 **"These wounds won't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real,  
There's just too much that time cannot erase."**

 _Peggy's voice was echoing in his ears through the radio, but at this point he wasn't paying attention to the words. All he could focus on was the ice coming up fast, cold and unforgiving, unyielding. Bucky's face flashed in front of his eyes in the seconds before the plane hit, the way his face lit up when he smiled at him._

 **"You used to captivate me by your resonating light,  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind."**

The next exhale was a sob, and the fabric split wider under the assault of his flying fists, the words to the song tearing his heart the way his blows were tearing the bag.

 _His eyes opened slowly, mind catching up with his senses as he realized that, against all odds, he had somehow survived the crash. His last thoughts before he hit the ice invaded his mind, along with the knowledge that he would never see Bucky again. Pain speared through his chest at the thought, followed by anger that his death too had been taken from him, and for the first time since he stepped out of Stark's machine Steve cursed the serum that had preserved his life when he no longer had a use for it._

 **"Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams,  
Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me."**

With a final blow the punching bag split wide open and soared across the room before bouncing off the wall. Breath heaved out of his lungs as tears flowed freely, and yet he was still unable to relieve the weight on his chest. He sunk to his knees and dropped his fists to the floor, sobs tearing out of his chest as tears dropped to the mat below him.

 _He was reaching, his hand was almost there as the cold air whistled by, but then with a crack of metal suddenly there was nothing there to grasp._

"Bucky, I'm sorry," Steve choked out. "I'm so sorry, I love you and I'm sorry..."

Everyone thought it had been such a noble sacrifice, but in reality he just couldn't get away from the guilt, hadn't seen an end to the pain.

 _"I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth..."_

He blinked a couple times as Bruce's words from several months previously echoed in his mind.

"Jarvis?" He called tentatively to the empty room, still not totally used to speaking to someone who wasn't actually a person. Sometimes the twenty-first century was weird.

"Yes, Captain. How may I assist you?"

"Is Doctor Banner still awake?"

"He is, sir," Jarvis responded promptly. "Would you like me to contact him?"

"Yeah, could you ask him if he'd mind company?"

There was a brief pause before Jarvis spoke again. "He says you are more than welcome, sir. He is in his lab."

"Thanks Jarvis," Steve responded, standing to leave the gym as he wiped his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

...

Tony barely breathed from his spot in the corner, shaken by what he had seen. Jarvis had alerted him when Steve's vitals had spiked and his emotions had gotten out of control, a protocol set by Pepper for when his own moods got low. Steve's words echoed in his mind.

"Jarvis, remind me who Bucky is?"

"Sergeant Barnes, Mister Stark, Captain Rogers' oldest friend. As I understand it your father spoke of him on occasion."

The mention jarred something loose in Tony's memory. "Ah, that's right. What happened to him again?"

"He fell from the same train Doctor Arnim Zola was successfully captured from. According to the report written that day, he was blown out the side of the train while attempting to shield Rogers from a blow while he was down. Captain Rogers went on to say that he was inches away from rescuing Barnes when the railing broke free."

"So Cap blames himself," Tony said quietly, unsure what to think of the information. He should have realized the man had demons, just because his father never mentioned them didn't mean they didn't exist.

"It appears so, sir." Tony nodded, turning to leave the room. "There is something else you may find relevant, sir."

"What's that?"

"Captain Rogers crashed the Valkyrie less than forty-eight hours later."

This made Tony stop short as several things fell into place in his mind. For the rest of the world it had been almost seventy years, and he had spent his entire life hearing about it. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that for Steve, those sixty-odd years may as well have never happened.

"Thanks, J."

...

Steve knocked tentatively on the door to the lab before he could chicken out, half wondering what he'd been thinking. But no, he needed to get it off his chest. He heard Bruce invite him in and opened the door, slipping in quietly.

"Hey Steve, what's up?" Bruce asked, setting down whatever he was working on.

"I, uh, wanted to ask you about something I guess," Steve began uncertainly. "Something you said a few months ago, when we were all on the helicarrier..."

He didn't know if it was something in his voice or the awkward way he spoke, but something about Bruce's features got the slightest bit colder.

"I don't need any help," he began, voice bordering on chilly. "If that was all then-"

"Oh, no!" Steve hurriedly began, realizing a moment too late how he must have come across. "No, I'm not here to talk about, well, I am kind of but not-" he cut himself off, frustrated that he couldn't get the words out. Fortunately, Bruce seemed to realize he wasn't trying to be condescending, and had loosened up greatly. Steve tried again. "I... I just wanted to talk to someone who understands," he admitted softly.

"When?" Bruce asked quietly, pulling up a stool and indicating that Steve should do the same.

"The Valkyrie," he answered as he took the other stool. "I... I told Peggy that I had to put it in the water, and I guess that was true. But I didn't have to stay in the plane."

"And you did... Why?" The question wasn't said as an insult or in a tone suggesting he was ridiculous. Just simple curiosity.

"Like you said," Steve sighed, meeting the other man's eyes with a ghost of a smile. "I couldn't see an end. It hurt too much, I couldn't take it."

"Barnes," he realized. "When I was told we'd be working together I thought it would be a good idea to read some of the reports, the information, the files." He paused, seemingly to decide whether or not to say more. "Were you... Were you as close as they say? Sometimes things are exaggerated, for the sake of good press and the like."

Steve nodded, feeling tears fill his eyes again. "Closer. All the back alley scraps he got me out of, all the times he saved my ass during the war and the one time it mattered..." He choked on the next breath in, trying to inhale normally to keep speaking. "I couldn't..." Steve swallowed. "I couldn't save him."

Bruce stayed quiet, watched him with eyes free of judgement, sensing there was more.

"I keep hearing him scream," Steve told Bruce softly. "All the time... The rail broke free and he screamed all the way down..." A sob tore free of his throat, that godawful scream echoing in his ears again. He knew he should stop talking, but now the words were coming he couldn't get them to stop. "That last night he said something and I couldn't figure out why, but then the next day he fell and it just seemed like he knew..."

"Sometimes people just have a feeling," Bruce said quietly. "It never makes any sense until later, but sometimes there's just a sixth sense that tells us something is going to happen. Can I ask what..."

Steve bit his lip as color rose in his cheeks without his permission. Bruce was a good man, he knew he wouldn't judge or condemn him and things were different now anyway, but it was ingrained to keep it to himself at all costs.

"I'm a doctor, Steve," Bruce said wryly. "There isn't anything you can say that'll phase me, I promise."

"I know, it's not that," Steve assured. "I'm just so used to having to be careful..."

Thankfully, Bruce was a smart man. "You were involved," he guessed. And Steve had been right. No judgement, no disgust, no hate. Just acceptance and curiosity. Too bad Bucky couldn't be there to see it.

"Uh, yeah, we were. That last night, it was late and we only had a few hours so at first I said not, you know, tonight," Steve paused to swallow down his embarrassment. "But he said he just had a feeling and I could tell he was keyed up about something, and honestly he didn't have to twist my arm too much, I mean..."

Steve blushed, but Bruce just smiled at him and motioned for him to carry on. "Anyway, right in the middle of things he stopped, he looked down at me," he blushed even darker, knowing what he had just given away, "And he looked me right in the eye and said 'I love you. No matter what happens, I need you to know how much I love you.' And then the next day he was gone."

"Well if you flipped things the other way, if it had been you that fell and him that wasn't able to get to you in time, what would you tell him? If he was here telling me what you are now, feeling what you are, what would you tell him?"

Steve chuckled in spite of himself. "To stop being such an idiot. To..." Steve trailed off, unwilling to say what had popped into his head. He'd have said it to Bucky, certainly, but repeating something like that to Bruce?

"To what?" Bruce asked, smiling. "Like I said, nothing you say will bother me."

Steve blushed yet again. "I'd have told him..." He sighed, then laughed again. "I'd have told him to find someone who could suck him off half as good as I could, who'd love him with all their heart and try to move on. And that when the time came, I'd be waiting for him."

"I know it doesn't make everything go away immediately, but it's a start, isn't it?" Bruce asked quietly.

Steve took in a breath, let it out and nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is." He stood up and smiled. "Thanks Bruce."

"Glad to help," the other man told him, holding out a hand to shake. Steve took it briefly before exiting the lab, finally with a shred of peace of mind.

...

"Hey Ca- Steve!" Tony called out, making the other man pause and turn. Belatedly Tony realized it was the first time he'd called him by his name.

"Yeah Tony?" He asked, and maybe it was the use of his given name that made him seem friendlier than he usually was. "What is it?"

Tony drew level with him, pausing before speaking. "I wasn't going to say anything at first 'cause it's none of my business, but then I thought if it were me I'd want to know." Steve's brow had furrowed, but he hadn't said anything yet. "Not long after New York I started having anxiety issues, panic attacks, you know that right?"

"Yeah, you'd mentioned it a while ago."

Tony sighed, lowering his voice. "Well, after that Pepper asked me to give Jarvis some new protocols, an alert system really for if I started having an attack or something. I won't bore you with the details but basically it alerts Pepper about me or me about, well anyone else in the tower if their emotions are spiking, erratic, that sort of thing..."

Steve sighed and leaned back against the wall, banging his head against it none-too-gently. "You saw last night," he said. It wasn't a question.

Tony didn't blame him for the frustration or embarrassment, whatever he was feeling.

"Hey, I'm not judging, not poking fun. Just wanted to let you know if you ever need to talk or there's something I can do, let me know. We've gotta take care of each other in this business."

Steve opened his eyes and gave Tony a long look, seeming to decide whether he was being serious or not. Finally appearing to trust that Tony was being sincere, he nodded. "Thank you Tony. It... It means a lot."

"Sure thing."

...

Steve had finally been on the way to healing, to moving on and achieving a level of functionality without Bucky by his side. He had a few friends, a purpose, and was even considering taking Natasha up on one of her dating suggestions (though he'd never tell her that).

He was finally getting better. Finally finding his place in this strange, vast new world.

But then there was Fury, running with Natasha, Zola and "who the hell is Bucky?" and Steve's whole world shifted off its axis, all of the progress he'd fought so hard for erased in a single moment in time.

Bucky had always known exactly how to destroy him.

...

 _ **~*~ Two Years Later ~*~**_

...

Bucky knocked carefully on Banner's door, files and documents held under one arm as he waited. Moments later it opened, revealing the slightly gray haired man he had bonded most closely with since being brought back by Steve.

"James, what brings you here tonight?" He asked kindly as he stepped aside, making room for Bucky to enter the apartment.

"I wanted your opinion on something I read in the files from the last mission back in the war is all, something just doesn't quite make sense."

"I'd be happy to help," the mild mannered man told him with a smile. "What were you confused about?"

"When Steve put the Valkyrie down," Bucky admitted. "I read the files and reports, not to mention me and the guys helped work on the thing back in '43."

"Okay..." Bruce trailed off, privately thinking he knew where this was going.

"It had two parachutes on board," Bucky told him. "I listened to the final transmissions between Steve and Peggy. He told her he had to put it down right away because if he waited any longer it was going to kill people, but he crashed before he was even below the Arctic Circle. Somewhere along the coast of Greenland, if I had to guess. He had probably a thousand miles of almost barren land to put it down. And even if he did have to crash land, he could have given his coordinates, grabbed a chute and bailed. Clearly he doesn't freeze to death the way normal people would."

"What are you asking?" Bruce inquired carefully.

Bucky levelled a steady gaze at the man. "I'm asking if Steve unnecessarily sacrificed himself two days after he thought I died. I'm asking if he tried to kill himself."

Bruce chose his words carefully. "If he had said something of the kind to me, I couldn't betray his confidence," he said slowly. "But I could tell you that from both a medical and scientific point of view, your reasoning seems pretty spot on to me."

"What would..." Bucky sighed, biting his lip. He could read between the lines, he knew what Banner was, or rather wasn't, saying. "What should I do?"

"Something incredibly complicated and highly scientific," Bruce told him. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Talk to him," the other man told him, grinning wryly.

Bucky chuckled reluctantly as he turned for the door.

"Thanks doc."

"I've told you before, you can use my first name."

"I remember. See you later doc."

Bruce shook his head as Bucky vanished out the door.

...

"Steve, can I ask you something?" Bucky's voice was quiet, reserved in between bites of Chinese takeout kicked back on the couch of their apartment in the tower.

"Course Buck, anything, you know that."

"Yeah, but it's a bit..." He trailed off and shrugged awkwardly, gaining Steve's full attention.

"What is it?" Steve asked softly, setting his food aside before turning to face Bucky full on.

"I was reading some of the files and reports from the last HYDRA base raid back in '45, right after I fell."

Steve tried to tamp down on the guilt swimming in his chest, but he couldn't stop it from showing in his eyes.

"Steve..."

"I can't help it Buck," he admonished quietly, "The same way you can't sometimes."

"True."

"And?" Steve led.

"Right. Well, back in '43 the guys and I in the prison camp did some work on part of it too."

"Yeah, I know," Steve reminded him, confused.

"So I know most of the specs of that ship."

"Mhm..."

"I know there were two parachutes on board," Bucky said quietly. "And I know you were a thousand miles from New York when you told Peggy you had no choice but to put it down."

Steve didn't respond, simply lowered his gaze to inspect his cuticles, which were suddenly inexplicably fascinating.

"Steve?"

He heaved a sigh and met Bucky's eyes. "What are you asking me?"

Bucky just glared. "Don't play dumb, you know what I'm asking."

Another sigh, and a flick of the eyes down to his cuticles before turning back up to meet dark blue eyes. "Fine then, Buck. Yes, I killed myself, or tried to anyway. I didn't know how to live without you and I didn't want to have to learn. So I saw an opportunity and I took the coward's way out. Happy?"

"I can't decide," Bucky told him honestly. "On one hand I want to chew you out for being a noble, self-sacrificing dumbass, and I hate thinking that you were hurting so much you'd rather have died." He sighed heavily, taking one of Steve's hands in both of his own and tracing patterns on the skin, "But the more selfish part of me is glad because it means I get this with you again."

"I'd do it again," Steve told him, "In a heartbeat."

"I know you would," Bucky sighed, "Idiot."

"Your idiot," Steve smiled.

"My sap, too," he chuckled, drawing Steve forward. His blond head came to rest on Bucky's shoulder as strong arms wrapped around his waist. Bucky laid back on the couch, kicking his legs up and dragging Steve down with him. Steve curled into his side, draping his arm over Bucky's waist and laid his head directly over Bucky's heart, needing to hear the strong, steady thrum.

The sound and a subtle hint of that scent he would know anywhere, anytime combined in his head, contradicting the memory playing on repeat backed by the repeating sound of Bucky's scream all meshed together into a jumble his emotions still couldn't quite cope with. When Bucky felt the first wet spot hit his bare chest he curled his arm tighter around Steve's shoulders, winding the fingers of his other hand through his hair.

Steve's arm tightened around his waist as his legs drew up slightly, shoulders hunching as the first sob tore out of his chest. It had become a semi-regular occurrence by now, one of them curling up and crying themselves out on the other's chest. They were both tormented by guilt, by things they couldn't undo and images they could never erase. They both maintained the other couldn't be blamed for the wrongs they saddled themselves with, but neither had managed to absolve themselves of the burdens they carried.

There were still times Steve woke up screaming, left hand reaching out for a matching right it never grasped in time, and there were times Bucky woke up screaming with any variety of faces seared into the back of his eyelids. But when Steve's arm reached out for nothingness as he screamed himself awake Bucky's fingers always wove through his own, and when Bucky saw the throat of a small child cut open from jugular to carotid in his nightmares Steve was always there hovering above him, kissing the tears off his face and reminding him that the person he used to be wouldn't feel the remorse crushing his chest.

They were a messed up pair, there was no denying it, and no one could say either would ever be whole again. But each with the other to help stitch them back together, they could at least find peace.

And Steve knew he would never be able to completely stop blaming himself for the way Bucky screamed in the night and the scars crisscrossing his flesh, but with him alive and warm beside him, above him and inside him, he could live with it. And maybe one day, he could almost forget.

Bucky had always known exactly how to heal him.


End file.
